Just stuff, I guess

First blog in a while. I am aware. I've just been really busy, seriously. I hate having to say that. Honestly? I HAVE been super busy. Every weekend for the past 3 months has been scheduled to the max. Damn, even though it's true, I hate having to say it. Why? Because no one believes it. I mean, sure, they say "Oh, alright. I get it. We can just reschedule. :)", they really mean "Really? If you don't want to come over, just say so". Or maybe that's just me being paranoid. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Anyway. Spring Break. I looked foward to it so much! It's a break from school, who wouldn't? But, let's just say, it started off less that optimal. Our break, unlike other schools, started off on Friday because we're a private school and we can do that. So, I woke up on Friday morning and breathed a sigh of relief! A whole week without homework! Okay, that's a lie, but it wasn't being regularly assigned. Since it was, after all, a break, I slept in until 10. That's the latest I've slept in since... 4th grade? I loved it. So, after getting ready, my mom came in and asked if I wanted to go out and eat to celebrate. Of course I did, she offered to take me to Casa Ole. How could I refuse (it's my favorite restaurant ever)? She tossed me the keys and told me to drive there. I'm a good driver. I really am. I don't speed (okay, well, maybe a little bit. But only because people on the freeway always speed), I never run red lights. I stop at all stop signs and look both ways before heading out into the street. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Car accidents happen sometimes. I get it. My dad has had a few. But I never thought I would get into one. Don't worry, it's not nearly as bad as it sounds. I was going straight (from a straight or turn lane) and a woman (from a straight only lane) pulled left in front of me. This is going to sound extremely cliche, but it's true: it went in slow motion. True, we were only going about 30 mph, so it wasn't that fast to begin with, but the sound of the cars colliding seemed like forever. The other driver and I pulled into some small parking lot. I was terrified. Crying and shaking. Gimme a break, I had just turned 16 and I had already gotten into an accident. Then, to make matters worse, this large woman stepped out of the driver's side and slammed her door (well, she attempted to. It just sprang back open). She had sunglasses and a look that could kill puppies on her face. Oh, and she was covered in tatoos. Normally, tatoos don't scare me, but right then, those stars seemed as if they were staring into my soul. Then, she started to claim that I was in a turn only lane and should have turned, which led to my breaking down crying again. She called the cops and we waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, an hour later, a cop car pulled out. After talking to us, he inspected both cars, listened to our stories, and said to me "I think she's right. I think that's a must turn lane. Let's see". We turned to face the intersection where the collision had happened. The cop said (to me) "If the people in the far lane all turn, you're getting the ticket. If they don't, she'll be getting it". This moment seemed almost as intense as the battle scene during 300 (okay, I haven't actually seen the movie, but I've heard it's pretty intense). We waited for the light to turn green. When it finally did, the first car turned left. My spirits fell. I almost began to cry again, but then I looked up. Every car behind that one began going straight! REJOICE! TAKE THAT, TATOO LADY! Long story short, she got the ticket and I got Chile Con Queso and Tacos, courtesy of my wonderful mother. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Okay, admittedly, that really sucked (the accident, not the queso). But everything after that was amazing. We went to my grandma and step-grandpa's house to celebrate my family birthday. We were about to start eating dinner when the doorbell rang. I looked at the door and there was my grandpa! I hardly ever get to see him because he lives in...*shudder* Lubbock. Anyway, we ate and I got some presents (a tower of candy. Literally). After that we went geocaching. Never heard of it? You're missing out. It's like treasure hunting in urban areas. People go and hide these Geocaching boxes and then they post the coordinates on the geacaching website. Then, if you want to go and find one, you plug in the coordinates and go a'searching! I know it might seem immature, but it's so much fun. I've always wanted to be an explorer. This is my chance. In addition to the geocaching, I saw my family almost every day that week. So much fun. Unlike the majority of teenagers my age, I really love my family. They are the people I know I can trust to love me unconditionally, but who will also be straight with me if I've done something I shouldn't have. I had a sleepover with my little cousins, whom I love to death and we jumped around and sang Kryptonite, built Legos and had a pillow pet fight. Yeah, I have a pillow pet. It's a lady bug named Bug-a-boo. If you've got a problem with that, I really don't care. I am proud of who I am. I'm a 16 year old girl. I get scared. I am happy, but I get sad sometimes. I love acting like a little kid. I go back and fix typos in my blog and on texts(when I see them, that is), not so the other person thinks I can spell well, but because typos just really bug me. I love biology and history. I am a self-proclaimed nerd. I don't really like talking on the phone too much. I love late-night conversations at sleep-overs. I've gone through a lot of crap in my life, but I'm still an optimist and (even though I can't prove Him and He doesn't make sense to me) I now beleive in God. I talk to my dogs and cats. I have a past, but I also have a future. That's who I am, and I'm not changing for anyone anymore. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alright, that seemed a little out of place... But it felt right to me. Didn't I feel right to you? Okay, I'm talking to the computer again, I think it's time to stop. Haha, until next time!

Who says school is obligatory?

I am in World History class right now. We are being lectured at by a random man at the moment. I would be paying attention, but I don't know who this man is, so I am drifting off.

I've been thinking about my future a lot lately. Besides being discouraged by my counselor - she basically told me that I wouldn't be getting into the college of my dreams -, I am, overall, pretty optimistic about getting into college and getting a job.
When I was little, I wanted to do a lot of things. I wanted to be a dentist, a vet, a firefighter/cop, lawyer, doctor, stand-up comedian, journalist and, probably at one point, a Disney princess. I was an ambitious little child. Very inquisitive. Today I...well, I still don't know completely. But I have some ideas: forensic anthropologist/investigator, restaurant owner, oncologist, author, record producer, singer, psychologist, etc. As you can see, I still have a plethora of potential jobs, so not much has changed in that aspect. But these ones sound fancier!
College. Jeez, that's intimidating. Two and a half years away. Now, that's downright terrifying. Don't get me wrong, I am extremely excited for college (preferably out-of-state, but I have been informed by my mother that I will only achieve that dream if I win the lottery or get a million half-time jobs), but I am also kind of freaked out by the idea. I mean, the transition into high school was just completely blundering (that was right in the middle of my "awkward phase". Actually, that phase isn't over yet, but I have faith!). But college? Moving out of home to go to a school at least five times bigger than my current school? That's scary. But I still have high hopes for it. I'm not going to talk about the whole freedom bit (although, it's completely true) because it is overdone. I am simply looking foward to learning. Yeah, I know. I'm a nerd. What a shocker! I actually get to choose the classes that I want to take! Oh, and boys. Did I mention boys? I don't think I did. I go to an all-girls school currently... 'Nuff said. Co-ed school will be a nice change.
Okay, I know that right now I'm all pumped about all of the freedom of college and stuff, but to be perfectly honest, I bet you that I will be one of those kids who spends tons of money to go to college out of school (maybe I will marry rich) only to get extremely homesick. After which I will probably drop out of said college to return home and take classes at a local community college...

...

...

Not really though. I mean, I'll get homesick, but not that much.

Alright, awkward man has stopped talking, so I should pay attention to the teacher now.

Farewell, brethren!

A Serious Post

Okay, obviously, I haven't been keeping up with this blog.
So I'm not going to promise to keep up with it, but I'm going to post every now and then when I have time.
This post is going to be really long. If you don't feel like readin it, feel free to skip.
Just saying.

Alright, we're jumping in here. I have no idea what I'm going to talk about. It's like bungee jumping off of the Golden Gate Bridge with a jump rope. Wait...that doesn't actually make sense. Never mind that. Ach, I don't know what I'm doing. This is just really awkward.

Okay, I'm ready.

Being a teenager really sucks sometimes. I know, typical teenage outlook on life. But honestly, it does. I mean, I have been so stressed out lately, it's ridiculous. And, don't get me wrong, I'm not getting stressed out for the hell of it. I have my reasons. But the amount of stress does not corelate with the events in my life. Looking at my life, I realize that there are a few dramatic things in it, but not so much that it should stress me out to this extent. That is why being a teenager sucks. Due to raging hormones and other various body chemicals, every single thing that happens in life seems like a giant...snake-viking-monster. With an ax. That shoots lightening out of the tip. And that's all I've got right now.

Just kidding.
Oh, and by the way, I realize that this is extremely unorganized, but please just cope with me. I need a little while to get back into the swing of this whole "blogging" thing.

Death.
At this point of the blog, you might be thinking something along the lines of "Oh, God. Yet another emo child". Just hear me out.
Some people, the fortunate few (alliteration is fun!), are lucky enough to have not become familiar with death...yet. Everyone has their run-ins with death. Either by dying or experiencing the death of a loved one.
Your first run-in with death is the one that stays with you for the rest of your life.
For those of you who have not dealt with death on a personal level, you should feel fortunate. Sure, you cried at the death of your favorite book or movie character. You got emotional as the hero of the movie fell of a cliff to his tragic death. You may have even had to deal with a friend who lost a family member.
But if you have not personally lost someone, you have no idea about the impact of a death.
When I was about six years old, I had a friend named Sasha. I went to a very small school in first grade, so everyone was friends with everyone else. However, inevitabley, certain people were closer to certain people than they are to others. I had four very close friends (Let's call them Alan, Cara, and Maria. I don't like using real names in blog posts. Well, except for Sasha. That was her real name, in case you were wondering). We sat with each other every day and we would always go out and play soccer during recess. One day, during class, Alan, Cara, Maria and I were sitting with our class in a circle on the floor when we noticed that Sasha wasn't at school that day. We just figured that she must have had a cold or something of the sort. Later that day, our teacher was called out into the hallway to talk to someone. When she came back into the classroom, her eyes were red and her brow was furrowed. She gathered us all into the middle of the room and told us that our friend, Sasha, had cancer. Leukemia, to be exact.
We had no idea what that meant. We thought it was probably something like strepp throat or the flu.
For the next few months, we barely ever saw Sasha because, as we were told, she was getting help at the hospital for her condition. I think that is the moment when we all realized how serious the situation was.
When Sasha finally came back to school for a few days, she looked completely different. She had lost tons of weight and she had no more hair (due to the chemotherapy).
Alan, Cara, Maria and I were playing soccer outside when Sasha came running towards us. We noticed that she looked different, but we didn't care. We all ran up and hugged her. After a few seconds, Sasha broke down crying and said "You guys still remember me!".
Those words still echo in my memory today.
I am extremely proud of how my group of friends reacted. Children are great. They don't care how you look. They love you for who you are.

A few months later, we were told that Sasha had passed away in her mother's arms.
Our class was excused to go attend her funeral. I couldn't stop crying during the whole thing. Her mother went up and gave the eulogy for her six year old daughter. I can't help but have a massive amount of respect for that woman. That must have taken a lot of strength.

I still think about Sasha every now and then.
Now, this post might seem pretty random, but I assure you that it is not.
Sasha died abou ten years ago this month.
The point of this is that death isn't something that is forgotten. You carry it around with you forever. The pain of loss, yes. But also the fond memories and the great influences that these people had on your life.

Back from the dead

Oh, hi!
Um...
Yeah.
I'm pretty sure I've addressed this topic before, but I am not good at re-introducing myself after extended periods of time.
So, we're just gonna jump on in and attempt not to drown in all of the awesome that is the internet.

I just realized that I am writing this and I have no idea in which direction I would like to take this...
So be prepared for a whole bunch of tiny paragraphs. Or not. We'll just have to see. Alright, here we go.

Harry Potter. It's my favorite book series of all time. You may or not be aware of this, but the first half of the final movie is coming out this week. "First half?" you say. "Yes, indeed." I explain "You see, this book to movie crossover is filled with so much awesome, that if the directors were to release the whole book in one movie, the world, nay, the entire UNIVERSE would implode upon itself. Imagine the Goblet of Fire. Now imagine the sum amount of awesome between myself and cookies. Now, put that into the Goblet. Now, multiply that by a million. If you did this correctly, the Goblet of Fire should be spilling awesome all over the floor". And although, Filch may not be very pleased with you getting awesome all over the rug (it stains, you know), the fact that that much awesome could be in a movie, would be overwhelming. So, yes, two Deathly Hallows movies. What? Where will I be while this exhibit of magic and wands *if you wish, you may insert a sexual innuendo here* is going on? At home. Probably reading Harry Potter and listening to depressing music while I drown my sorrows in cookies. Why will I be doing this? School. More specifically, the movie release is on a school night...
I think we should get rid of school. I feel like, if we did that, there would be less depression in the world. Because I know for a fact that I will not be the only one missing the premier due to school (that's what I keep telling myself, at least). If there were no school, there would be no missing movie premiers. Point proven.

OH! I just heard an MCR song in a commercial which reminded me: MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE IS NOW GOING ON A TOUR AND COMING TO H-TOWN (my residence)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And guess who will be seeing them? That would be me. Yes, ma'am/sir. Best moment of my life? I think so!

Feet are just really weird. They are shaped awkwardly. I have big feet. It's ridiculous. Once, I was at the mall and this random small child came up to me and told me that I had huge feet. I told him that my feet were big because they were filled with secrets (Mean Girls reference, anyone?). They just kind of stared at me and ran away.

That is all for now!!

From out of the blue...

Ahem... Hello, Internet.
I know, it's been a really long time. I'm not good with saying goodbye... Or hello (as is evident from this awkward message), so I was just hoping you could maybe not question my prolonged absence? Maybe? No?... Damn. Okay, well, I will give a few vaguely general responses as to why I haven't blogged in a while. I was on hiatus. I was trying to find myself. I was dealing with some personal things. I was captured by homicidal hillbillies who didn't have wifi (talk about technologically incapable). I had homework. I was tired. *cough* So I was hoping that would be all good? Yeah? Alright, I love you, too. *hug* This is nice.
Alright, enough of that.
I was talking to one of my friends today and the topic of my blog came up, and she asked "You're still blogging, right?". To this I responded "...". This answer made her displeased. How do I know this? She gave me The Look. If have ever been a son or daughter (or both, we don't discriminate here), you will know the look to which I am referring. Let me give an example: You are sitting at dinner with your parents and they ask you why you didn't turn in your geometry homework, you respond with "Well... I was walking to school and I got mugged by some Math Ninjas. They are running rampant around the city...". Your mother/father (or both, again, we don't discriminate. And by 'we', I mean I don't) says "Kelsey, you don't walk to school. *insert look here*". No? Okay... Your parent or legal guardian tells you to clean up your room.
(ONE WEEK LATER)
You have not cleaned up your room. Your guardian approaches you and says "KELSEY, I TOLD YOU TO CLEAN UP YOUR ROOM! NO ONE WILL EVER WANT TO BE YOUR ROOM-MATE IF YOU ARE SUCH A SLOB!"... BAM! The Look is upon their face. Yes, so my friend gave me The Look. So, Micaela, this is for you.
*scuttles for something to say*
Oh, I got a new phone. His name is Hermagilde (pronounce Her-muh-gill-duh). Porpoise (my old phone) died. He was committed suicide. I was changing for my PE class (How permiscuous), and Porpoise decided that he didn't want to live any longer, so he flung himself from my pocket and landed directly into a sink. For some mysterious reason, the sink was filled with water. And I don't mean a small puddle of water, I mean a few inches of water. So, obviously, he is no longer in operation. Although, I still keep him by my bedside table. I think that's kind of creepy, actually... It's like keeping a dead pet on your bedside table. Imagine waking up in the middle of the night and glancing over at your deceased pet: "Oh, hey, Fido. How's it going?". I'm sorry, that was really sketchy...
Okay, I'm gonna stop talking (typing) before I get any creepier (which is bound to happen).
PEACE, MY HOMIES!

My excuse and Singing hamsters.

Um... *peeks out from behind computer screen*... Hi, everyone... *weak smile*
Sorry I haven't blogged in a while. But, I do have an excuse. At least for a few days. The last few I was just kind of tired.
So, at my school we have a laptop program wherein all of the students are given computers. I don't know whose idea it was to give a bunch of teenagers a bunch of expensive computers, but that's not the point. Since we are, after all, a bunch of teenagers, we are not exactly "gentle" with our lovely computers. Therefore the principal sees it fit to have a computer service location. Also known as The Cave (of sexual torture). That last part isn't the legit name. That would be inappropriate seeing as it is a Catholic school... Anyway, The Cavemen and woman ordered all of last year's freshmen to take their computers (I named mine Link-o Po Chink-o) to The Cave so that they may be updated to Windows 7!! Yay! Pretty! Okay, so my computer was away at The Cave for about three days. So that's part one of my excuse. Part two of my excuse exists of reading online comics, staying up late talking to my Chat Orgy (Yes, you read that correctly. No, it is not a real orgy. I am a good Christian girl...Sometimes. Heh heh), writing a book (which I haven't updated lately, but here's the link anyway: http://www.wattpad.com/493870-lights-cameras-disaster ), and watching Harry Potter and zombie movies with my friends... I feel like that is a decent excuse.

Now, I will go on to the portion of the blog wherein I whine and complain about things that annoy me! Yay!

Kia. They have very nice cars. I mean, they are pretty and they are environmentally friendly (or as friendly as a gas-guzzler can be). But there is one reason that has made me decide that I will NEVER buy a car from Kia Motors: wangster hamsters. Yes, wangster. Wanna-be gangster. Those less-than-ghetto-fabulous rodents from the Kia commercials get on my nerves. They all walk around with their doo rags on and try to be super-fly. (Reference picture) Now, don't get me wrong, the hamsters aren't the only part of the commercials that I hate with a burning passion that could fuel a thousand small towns for an eternity. I also dislike the music that is playing in the background of the "Soul Hamster" commercials. "You can get with this, or you can get with that. You can get with this, or you can get with that. You can get with this, or you can get with that." And it goes on and on and on. First off, I have no appreciation for a song that is put in motion to small rodents. Secondly, why would I want to "get with" a car. I feel like that would be at least partially illegal. Like.... Automotiphilia. Automotiviality (like bestiality. But with cars). So, no, Kia Hamsters. I will not be "getting with" any of your vehicles in the forseeable future.

And that's all I have to say on the matter.
Farewell!

Singing to flowers and Stairs.

Ahlo, everybody!

You may recall me mentioning the Corpse Plant at the museum in my last blog. She is amazing. Lois is. Last night I got really bored, so I decided to write a song for her. After thirty pain-filled minutes, my song was complete. I called it: An Ode to Lois. Very original, huh? Anyway, I posted it on facebook and it got many comments and likes. I enjoyed that. Then I brought my guitar to work this morning so that I could serenade Lois in person and, hopefully, persuade her to bloom. That didn't work... But! My song did catch the attention of a few museum employees, who, after recording me and my lovley assistant Stacey (she held the lyrics for me while I played), proceeded to post the video on the museum website. After I officially got off work, it was suggested that I go back to Lois and play for her some more because the crowd had gotten bigger. Yay! So I did. I felt awkward because people kept on coming up to me and asking if I was the one who played for the flower (No, I'm just carrying this guitar because I am a rebel. A rebel with a guitar). Then people were taking pictures of me and I didn't know what to do... So I just kinda smiled awkwardly and looked away. I don't deal with attention very well. By about 5:30, I was getting overheated and tired. So I played An Ode to Lois one last time (the security guard accompanied me that time because he had memorized the lyrics. He's cool like that) and then left. Fun times. *passes out*

*wake up*

Stairs: An invention made for people who actually have willpower. Not me. Every time I walk up the stairs, I get all tired. It's rather pathetic, really. My solution to avoid being all tuckered out: Get rid of stairs (Excercize? Never heard of it). I mean, this is the 21st century, after all. We have awesome things like laptops, iPods and electric bread-slicers. I think we should ditch the primative staircase and update it with something more modern. I think that every flight of stairs in America should be replace with an escalator. Not an elevator, because those things are scary and I don't like to be in confined spaces. And that's all I'm saying on the subject.

Sorry, this post was really short. But I literally feel like I am going to pass out. I promise I'll make up for it next time.

Bye bye!!